


The Pitiful Children of the Atom

by Duck_Life



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Kermit the Frog - Freeform, Mutant Rich, Other, Rich's lisp, Some Biphobia (From the Squip), pyrokinesis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 17:36:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11340153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: Rich set a fire... but he didn't use a lighter.





	The Pitiful Children of the Atom

“Fuckin’ Thquip, telling me what to fuckin’ do,” Rich grumbles, rifling through Jake Dillinger’s refrigerator. “Come on, man, you gotta have Mountain Dew Red in here thomewhere.” 

_ Rich, calm your ass down _ , his Squip orders, glaring at him from his perch on the kitchen counter.  _ You’re going to do something stupid. _

“No, I already did thomething thtupid, I let you the fuck into my head,” he says, rebelliously lisping at the pretentious Muppet. “I want out. And you won’t leave me alone. Tho I need Mountain Dew Red.” 

_ No, you only need me _ , the Squip says.  _ Otherwise you’re just a pathetic loser with a “lithp.” Can’t get a girlfriend. Can’t even get a friend.  _

“Thut up,” Rich spits.

_ Convinced you’re some kind of half-gay half-straight freak of nature… greedy, selfish… on a trajectory to wind up just like your old man.  _

“FUCK YOU,” Rich explodes, spinning toward his Squip. He knows, logically, that there’s nothing really there, that the Squip is just in his head. 

It’s just that he doesn’t really care. He’s  _ that _ pissed off. Rich makes as if to punch the Squip, but as his fist sails toward the Kermit the Frog lookalike, flames erupt from his hand and shoot across the room, igniting the paper towel roll. 

“FUCK.” Rich runs for the faucet and grabs the spigot, trying to aim it at the paper towels, but he gets too close to the puddle of vodka on the counter and that goes up in flames, too. Rich stares down at his hands, both of them engulfed in fire. Strangely, he feels fine. Well, physically. Emotionally and mentally, he’s like, “FUCK. Thit fuck goddamn, what do I do? What do I do? Hey, fucker, help me the fuck out!”

The Squip looks bored, sitting on top of the fridge and dangling his skinny little felt frog legs.  _ Oh, I thought you said you didn’t need me _ . 

“What the hell is happening to me?” Rich tries to reach for the faucet again but the fire is swiftly spreading across the counter, engulfing the cabinets. “Make it thtop!”

_ I’ve been suppressing it for a year _ , the Squip says.  _ Didn’t I mention? On top of being a Homo Lite™ with a speech impediment, you’re also a mutie freak.  _

“I’m a mutant?” Rich says in astonishment as he watches the flames crawl up his hands toward his elbow. “Okay, so how do I control it?” 

The Squip shrugs, an evil glint in his freaky plastic eyes.  _ You don’t.  _

“No, no,” Rich says, watching the fire spread out from him to cover the entirety of Jake’s kitchen. He runs out into the main part of the party. “Get out! Everyone! Get out!” The flames just follow him, but at least the inferno behind him does something to hide the fact that his hands themselves are lit up like torches. 

Rich tries to tamp it down, but it seems he can only create the fire, not control it. It’s like a nightmare, watching as the flames climb higher and higher and the screams echo around him. He waits until he sees everyone leave before he runs for the door, but then the ceiling collapses around him and he sees black.

* * *

 

Later, after everything, after the hospital and the Twitter storm and the play and the Mountain Dew Red, Rich watches Jeremy and Michael (and Jeremy’s dad) march excitedly out of the hospital, and he heaves a sigh of relief. He may have screwed up, but at least it all worked out okay. Jake even forgives him for the fire. 

And no one knows his secret. He may have come out about being “totally bi,” but no one figured out that he didn’t set that fire with a lighter. No one knows that he’s also “totally a mutant.” His secret is safe, for now. 

And then a gorgeous tower of a woman walks into his hospital room, her silvery white mohawk shining in the harsh fluorescent lighting. “Richard Goranski?” she says. “I’m Ororo Munroe.” Despite her intimidating stature, her face and voice are kind, gentle. “I understand that you set a fire and you burned down a house.” 


End file.
